


Forged Memories

by CaptainGlenmore



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainGlenmore/pseuds/CaptainGlenmore
Summary: A series of small moments from within The Forged Throne series that didn't really fit anywhere.
Kudos: 1





	Forged Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot takes place during chapter 58 of The Forged Throne Book One.

* * *

Varian Wrynn could never be described as a ‘nervous’ man. Brash, headstrong, and hot-tempered were usually traits associated with the High King of the Alliance- but never nervous.

Yet here he was, standing in front of the mirror with a dried mouth, sweaty palms and a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I’m tired,” whined a small voice from behind him, and Varian turned to give his son a look of genuine sympathy.

“I know you are lad, but you won’t have to stay awake much longer, I promise,” Varian soothed, feeling a slither of guilt attach itself to the large bundle of nerves he was trying to combat. Anduin curled himself up tighter and put his head on the arm of Varian’s chair.

“How much longer?” he asked, and Varian took his watch from the pocket of his doublet.

“About ten minutes, then you can sleep in the carriage,” Varian informed him, making sure not to wrinkle the white satin as he put the watch back. Anduin’s little brow furrowed.

“Father?” he called meekly, bringing his father’s attention back to him.

“Aye, son?”

“Was your wedding to my mother like this?” Anduin asked, and Varian’s face dropped like a stone. He fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves, and gave his son the courtesy of looking him in the eye.

“No, it wasn’t. In fact, it was _far_ different,” he admitted, trying to read the boy’s face. “Good different? Or bad different?” Anduin questioned, leaving his seat when Varian made his way over.

“Just _different_ , that’s all. Anduin, you have to understand something…your mother was a fantastic woman, and I cared for her deeply…”

“But not like you care for mum?” Anduin finished, and Varian had no choice but to nod.

“I love your mum with all my heart, Anduin, and I make no secret of it. When I married your mother, things were so all over the place that I honestly couldn’t have enjoyed it even if I tried,” he confessed, realising too late that Anduin was too young to hear this.

“Apologies, son, I shouldn’t have said that, that was wrong of me.”

However, Anduin shook his head.

“No, I like that you can tell me the truth, Father. I’m a big boy, and I asked, so it’s only fair,” he said, hitting Varian with how mature he was becoming like a brick to the face. The king still didn’t look too sure, however.

“It was a very difficult situation, lad. I would absolutely love to sit here and tell you that ‘yes, your mother and I were ecstatic to marry’, but I simply can’t. We did what we had to for our kingdom, and that was enough for us,” Varian explained, noticing how Anduin shrunk. “In fact, the best thing to come out of our marriage, was _you_.”

The prince sat up again. “Me? Really?” he asked, slowly brightening again.

“Oh yes. Ask your mum; when I found out that your mother was having you, I was the happiest man alive,” Varian said truthfully, glad to see a smile reappearing.

“Was mother excited as well?!” he trilled, and Varian nodded once again.

“She was absolutely thrilled. In fact, I think she’d already sewed you a whole wardrobe before you’d even given her your first kick,” he said, glad to finally gain a moment to speak of Tiffin to the boy.

“Did she love me, Father?” Anduin asked in a quieter voice, and Varian gave him the embrace that he clearly wanted from him.

“She did, lad. She loved you so damn much,” he replied, kissing the side of Anduin’s head.

“Anduin…you do know that I would never expect you to consider mum as a replacement for your mother, don’t you?” he asked, feeling Anduin’s blonde locks move with a nod.

“I know. Is that why mum didn’t want to live here with us at first?” he queried, and begrudgingly, Varian nodded.

“Aye. She didn’t want you confused, that’s all,” he told Anduin, who giggled into his father’s shoulder.

“I’m not confused, Father. ‘Mother’ is my mother, and ‘Mum’ is my mum. There’s nothing confusing about that,” he said, making Varian chuckle.

“And what, I’m just an illusion, am I?” he accused, sharing a laugh with the prince. “No! But I don’t have two fathers…do I?”

Varian rolled his eyes and rose from his seat with Anduin latched onto his hip. “Don’t open that jar of worms, Anduin, all you’ll get is a headache,” he grumbled, patting his head. “Go on, get the comb so we can leave on time.”

Anduin scurried over to the vanity table, and Varian was cautiously pleased at how the frank conversation hadn’t affected him.

He knew that Val would scold him for being so open about his feelings towards his first marriage, but he would argue that it was better coming from him now, then someone else later.

“Are you excited this time, Father?” Anduin questioned as he came back and turned around. Varian’s smile turned into a grin while he ran the comb through his son’s hair.

“Most definitely, son.” 


End file.
